Revenge of the Toad
by general whitefur
Summary: I have no idea. Other than that I watched silly videos of MAVs and...well, this happened. Enjoy.


_**REVENGE OF THE TOAD**_

 _ **(and tiny flying robots)**_

"Area clear, move up," Fox said. Behind him, following as he led, came Star Fox, heavily armed, and ready for trouble. They'd been given orders to clear out a nest of terrorists on Titania, and that was just what they were going to do.

Following directly behind Falco, Slippy bided his time. He looked at the bird, over a foot taller than the squat toad, and remembered the night before. The night when Falco, despite the rules agreed upon beforehand for the private match, had grabbed an attack helicopter during a one-hit kill game of Battleground, and had then proceeded to attack Slippy relentlessly. True, he'd occasionally targeted Fox, or Miyu, or Fay, (though he didn't dare go after Katt), and even once risked attacking Krystal, but mostly, he'd gone after Slippy. And, to add insult to injury, the avian had brutally attacked Slippy's favorite game feature. The MAV. Every time Slippy tried to use one, he would be immediately targeted and destroyed by the merciless, cruel birdy. But Slippy...oh, he had planned his revenge. He had planned it thoroughly. He'd even discussed it with the others, and had gotten them in on it. And today, in the simulator run they were doing on the _Great Fox_ 's holodeck, that revenge would be realized.

Ahead of them loomed an abandoned hotel. According to intelligence this was where the terrorists were hiding. Fox looked behind him at his team, meeting eyes with Slippy. The toad nodded, and Fox turned to Falco. "Falco, move up and scout ahead. We'll take up a position here. I want you to draw the enemy to us. Got it?"

Falco looked him at incredulously. "Sounds a little...dangerous."

"You signed up for dangerous," Fox grunted. "Get to it."

Choosing bravado over common sense, the avian pushed forward, first slowly, then a little faster. He didn't like the plan, but he could yell at Fox for it afterwards, during analysis. He kept his sights on the big building ahead, convinced there were snipers in every window. He caught movement then. But not in the windows. No, it was on the roof. "What the?" Using his weapon optics he zoomed in on the movement on the roof. His beak dropped. "Um...guys?"

Coming over the roof, their tiny little propellers humming, filling the night with a low, incessant buzzing, were at least thirty...no forty...no! Fifty? Sixty. "Oh god. There's hundreds!" Hundreds of Micro Air Vehicles, more commonly known as MAVs, swarmed over the rooftop of the abandoned hotel. All of them making a beeline for Falco. Their tiny targeting lasers converged on him, dots covering his entire lower body. Thank god they appeared unarmed.

"Guys! Run!" Falco waved his arms above his head, turning to run for cover. Behind him the noise of the approaching MAVs grew louder, filling his auditory receptors. His plumage flared out, something he didn't even know he could do to the ridiculous extent that he was now. He looked like Katt in a haunted house. In seconds he knew sniper bullets would begin pinging around him, and with the amount of spotting robots chasing him, there would be no escape. He dared to glance behind him, only to see another wave of the tiny little robots taking off from the window sills on the top floors. Letting out an undignified series of squawks, Falco ran for cover, throwing his weapon away, at a loss for what to do, and wanting nothing more than to get away from the terrifying spectre of death following him.

Back behind cover, and trying his best not to laugh, Fox just held out his fist to Slippy and said, "Nice work."

Bumping fists, Slippy said, "How long do you think it'll take him to figure out there's no snipers?"

Finally surrendering to the laughter engulfing the rest of the team, Fox watched as Falco hopped, dived, rolled, and screamed, all the while a swarm of determined MAVs followed his every move. "I don't know," Fox admitted. "But did you bring the popcorn?"

Grinning, Slippy snapped his fingers. A bright light appeared in the middle of the group, and ROB informed them that the transfer had been completed. Fox, Slippy, and the girls each grabbed a bag of popcorn, set aside their weapons, and settled in for the show. The Revenge of the MAVs.

* * *

A/N: I literally have no idea. Also...MAV SQUAD! And Battlefield Friends. And Groundy, Sani, Xengo, and...yes Joyce? Oh, okay. Sorry, the vixens who actually type these notes have informed me that the union says they have to stop, or I have to pay them overtime...and shoot. Yep. Yep, they just went on strike. *sigh* Joyce!

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End file.
